


Bare Feat

by mapleandmahogany



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Heterosexual Sex, Minor Character Death, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-24
Updated: 2007-07-24
Packaged: 2018-10-27 17:20:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10813404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapleandmahogany/pseuds/mapleandmahogany
Summary: *spoilers for DH*Dean and Luna comfort each other at Shell Cottage





	Bare Feat

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

**Contains Deathly Hallows spoilers** 

Many thanks to Quizzical, Queenbe, and Gwen1170 for the beta and input. 

* * *

~^~  
  
“Good morning, Dean.”  
  
He pulled the towel off his head that was obscuring his vision.  
  
“Oh, hey, Luna.”  
  
“You took a shower,” she said, observing the obvious. He was dressed in Bill’s jeans and a jumper and had just come directly from the bathroom.  
  
“Er, yeah.” It felt silly to also state the obvious in reply but her appearance was notably different from what it had been the day before. “You too.”   
  
He’d recognized her immediately in the darkness, but the dirt and blood and shabby state of the schoolmate he’d met in the Malfoy’s dungeon was far from the serene, radiant beauty that sat on the sofa before him now.  
  
 _Beauty_? He repeated to himself. … _huh_.  
  
The silence in the room between them felt awkward but Luna didn’t appear to notice. She seemed to be looking right through him, which left him feeling so naked that he subconsciously opened his hands over his clothes to make certain that he’d remembered to dress.   
  
He sat on the opposite end of the sofa, needing to _do something_ , and when he looked at her again, noticed that her gaze had settled onto his still bare feet.  
  
Quickly reaching for a roll of socks Bill had left for him, he pulled them on.   
  
Luna made a quiet, “hmm,” sound that Dean thought sounded like disappointment if he’d ever known what to think about the things Luna did. She continued watching him while he tied his shoes.  
  
“I don’t think you’re a long-legged llama at all.”  
  
Dean didn’t bother trying to hide his mystified expression this time.   
  
“Huh? Pardon me?”  
  
“That’s what Seamus called you. He said, ‘well, I think Dean would approve, even if he is a long-legged llama.’ Or else he’d say, ‘too bad Dean’s not here, he could out run them with his long llama legs’.”  
  
He let out a loud, sudden laugh and threw his head back. It instantly warmed his heart to hear something so absurdly Seamus after all this time.   
  
“He said that, did he?” He settled back into the corner of the sofa, feeling a little more relaxed. “That little leprechaun,” he muttered to himself. “Say, Luna, tell me about Seamus, would ya? And the others at school, I want to hear it all.”  
  
“If you’d like,” she agreed.  
  
So Luna tucked her feet underneath her and relayed to him the cruelty of the Carrows and of the DA uprising happening at Hogwarts. Luna’s unique perspective on his classmates made him laugh, but he also became immensely aggravated that he wasn’t there to help.  
  
“Bugger!” he snarled, pacing the room after she told him of the consequences that Seamus and Parvati had suffered for leaving graffiti on the suits of armor. “I should be there! I should be doing something useful!”  
  
“No, Dean,” Luna said, reaching out and taking his hand. “It’s best that you’re not. I’m glad you’re here now.”  
  
He smiled down at her, noticing how comfortable her touch had become and that he missed it when she released him. He sat on the sofa next to her again, a little closer this time. With his long arm stretched out along the back, it took effort not to be distracted by thoughts of running his fingers through her hair. An echo of a crude thing Seamus had once said about the hair on a natural blonde came to mind. He shifted in his seat and bit the inside of his lip in self-flagellation for being unable to quell his curiosity in the matter.  
  
~  
  
He’d deny it if pressed, that it was intentionally done, but when Dean next showered, in spite of having taken clean socks to the bathroom with him, he descended the stairs with bare feet. It was juvenile, he knew, but he just had to know if Luna had really been looking at them … at _him_.   
  
With unexpected happiness, he found Luna in the sitting room but the thrill was shaken when he saw her looking at a roll of parchment that he’d drawn on.   
  
“Oh, you know, I wasn’t going to show that to anyone,” he groaned, resisting the urge to snatch it from her hands.  
  
“Really? It’s quite good. This is Mr. Tonks, is that right?”   
  
“Yeah, that’s him.” It was a sketched image of Ted fighting when the Snatchers came, the last horrifying image he had of that kind; Ted’s face was fierce and gaunt, with his wand raised at an unseen foe.   
  
Luna looked at him serenely as he sat down next to her while he looked at the rendering in her hand.  
  
“Tell me,” she said.   
  
Dean looked into her eyes and for the first time since it happened, felt that he really did want to tell someone.  
  
He had managed to go for days without talking about that night. Aside from giving the necessary summary to Bill, Harry and the rest when they’d first arrived, he’d avoided the details.   
  
So he turned to sit sideways on the sofa facing Luna, his arms hugging his bent knees and she faced him doing the same. He told her about how much he’d learned from Ted. About how he’d never made Dean feel like a run away child, and about how scared he’d been when the Snatchers attacked them.  
  
Recalling the memories of being cold, lonely, and embarrassingly afraid, all felt a little further away while sitting here with Luna.   
  
Luna, with her warm bare feet twisted around his; her fingers stroking his naked ankle.  
  
“You were very brave, Dean. It’s quite a feat that you survived.”  
  
“I dunno.” He shook his head. He didn’t mean to be disrespectful to the memory of his fallen friend, but Luna’s fingers tickling his skin were thoroughly distracting. “I, yeah … thanks.”   
  
She wasn’t giving him any of the giggling, blushing, coquette-eyed signals that he was accustomed to with girls. She merely looked as if she were petting a cat.   
  
He liked cats.  
  
~  
  
The quiet days of maddening confinement at Shell Cottage carried into weeks. His worry for his mother and friends, the frustration that he was unable to help Harry and being a burden to his unwitting hosts all conspired to thrust Dean into Luna’s company on a daily basis.   
  
She confused him, but the more he listened to her, he realized that she actually made sense most of the time. Nearly every day he was certain that she did something that coming from any other girl would be flirting, but from Luna? He just couldn’t tell.  
  
Luna told him about her capture and her time in the Malfoy dungeon listening to terrified sounds of torture and death above her. He’d only had to experience that horror for a few minutes himself and felt irrevocable altered from it.   
  
But Luna was merely glad that she’d been there to help Mr. Ollivander and to feed the hungry rats whenever she was given food. 

They’d sit outside in the grass and draw together, leaning into each other shoulders, or once in awhile with her head resting in his lap. Occasionally they even held hands. He and Seamus were used to this kind of casual closeness with the Gryffindor girls they were friends with, but this had begun to feel like more.   
  
As the late afternoon clouds of spring rolled in, Dean found Luna at the edge of the cliff side, sorting through gnarled pieces of driftwood.  
  
“Hey Luna, it’s almost dinner time. You need a hand with the firewood?” he asked, squatting down to where she sat in the tall grass.  
  
“Mr. Ollivander is leaving tonight,” she said. Her voice was as soft as ever, but Dean detected the sadness in her. “I tried to look after him in that place; I hoped someone was looking after Daddy the same way.”  
  
Dean put his hand over hers, stopping her sorting through the wood. “I’m sorry, Luna. For everything you went through.”   
  
When she raised her eyes to his, she looked as close to tears as he’d seen. There was no more thinking or wondering as he dropped onto his knees and cupped her face in his hands.   
  
“Dean, are you going to kiss m – ?” she began to ask, but he cut her off with his answer. He pressed his lips to hers. For a moment it was a one sided kiss, and he hoped he hadn’t made a terrible mistake, until her hands slid over his shoulders and she kissed him back.   
  
He let his weight settle on the ground while his arms drifted to her back to pull her closer. Having this inexplicable creature in his arms was as baffling as anything else that had happened to him, but he liked it.   
  
A light rain began falling. Kissing in the rain was a romantic notion, but Dean noticed immediately that each drop was freezing cold and tamped down the rising heat in him.  
  
“We should go inside before the wood gets wet,” she said, as they still held each other, their lips only inches apart.  
  
“Yeah, reckon we should,” he agreed, reluctantly letting her slip out of his embrace.  
  
They gathered the wood together, and Dean couldn’t tell if he should say something about what happened or not. She’d reacted positively to kissing him, he thought, but now she acted like it hadn’t happened.  
  
“This isn’t just driftwood, you know?” she said as they approached the cottage, the dramatic change of topic throwing him off.  
  
“It’s not?” He looked at the bundle in his arms.  
  
“No. It’s nesting material from a Crumple-Horned Snorkak; they throw it into the sea when they’re done with.”  
  
“Uh-huh,” Dean muttered, as they crossed the threshold into the kitchen.  
  
~  
  
The morning Harry and the others left, the house was left ominously quiet. A calm sense of dread hung in the air.   
  
Dean and Luna helped Bill and Fleur establish some order to their small home again. The four shared a quiet lunch together, but the newlywed couple appeared eager to spend some much neglected _alone time_ together.   
  
Fleur excused herself first.  
  
“I think I’ll … help Fleur upstairs for a bit,” Bill said lamely. Dean bit down a smile and nodded. Bill shrugged sheepishly and winked as left the room to follow his wife.  
  
“Something is going to happen soon,” Luna said. “Can you feel it?”  
  
He took Luna’s hand that rest near on his on the table.  
  
“Yeah, does feels like that. Wish we could do something.”  
  
“Oh we will,” she answered, sounding so certain. “Bill and Fleur know it too, that’s why they went upstairs.”  
  
Dean snickered into his drinking glass but nodded his agreement.   
  
“They’re going to make love.”  
  
Dean choked on his pumpkin juice. “Er, yeah, I kinda reckoned as much myself.”  
  
“Would you like to do the same?” she asked, as plain as if she’d offered him tea.  
  
“Er …” Dean spluttered, wiping his chin. “You want, uhm, really?”  
  
“It’s seems like the appropriate thing to do.”  
  
Dean was knocked for six. They had kissed on several occasions now, but he was always left wondering if it meant the same – or anything at all - to her.  
  
He didn’t like the thought of behaving ungentlemanly, but in spite of himself, when Luna stood and held out her hand, he took it and followed her upstairs to the small bedroom.  
  
Kissing, caressing and undressing with Luna were as oddly comforting as anything else they did together.  
  
He liked how she admired his torso when he pulled his jumper over his head and couldn’t help looking for her reaction when he toed off his shoes and socks. She made happy little, ‘Mm,’ sound when his toes were bared.  
  
Luna apparently wore nothing under her robes, so once the garment dropped to the floor, she was much more naked than Dean was, much sooner than he’d expected.   
  
“Am I what you hoped for?” she asked.  
  
“You’re - oh, well I didn’t hope,” he began but then stopped. He hadn’t meant to stare at her body, but he reminded himself that her comments weren’t accusatory, just _Luna_. “You’re very pretty,” said honestly.  
  
“So are you, Dean.”   
  
He dropped his head feeling a little shy again.   
  
They slid onto the bed together, and his remaining clothing was obvious. Dean tried to push his trousers and underwear down without breaking their kiss but finally gave it up for impossible. He sat back, pausing slightly when Luna sat up to watch him with unblinking eyes and an expectant smile. He took a breath and pulled the waistband of his pants over his standing erection and wriggled them down. No sooner was he exposed than Luna spoke again.  
  
“You have quite a large penis, I think,” she said matter-of-factly, tilting her head to have a look at it.  
  
“Oh, god, Luna,” Dean whined, bending his knees, squirming to pull his underwear back up.  
  
“No, don’t put it away, Dean,” she coaxed gently, putting her hand on his forearm. “We’ll need to have it out for this –” Dean snorted a laugh – “unless you’re embarrassed by the size? I always thought boys were proud to be well endowed. Would you rather have a small one?”  
  
The mortified cringe that Dean was hiding behind his hand gave way to an uncontrollable chuckle. He shook his head before moving his hand away from his face to look at her with crooked eyebrows. “No, I’m not embarrassed by it,” he finally said reluctantly. “But would you mind if we maybe not talk about _it_ , please?”   
  
“Certainly.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
They lay back together, taking time to lose themselves in soft, sloppy kisses once more.  
  
“You’re just so …” Dean trailed off, with an amused smile as he ran his fingers over her hair and down her bosom.  
  
“I know I am. I don’t mean to be,” Luna answered.   
  
“No! I don’t mean that. You’re exceptional! Don’t apologize for who you are.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
They began touching each other with deliberate curiosity and exploration. Luna asked questions and gave instructions freely, each of which Dean was alternately embarrassed and grateful for.  
  
Propped on one elbow, Dean slid his fingers between her legs while he laved the small pink bud of her breast with his mouth.  
  
“I’m ready now,” Luna said, arching her pelvis against his hand.  
  
“Oh …’kay.” He was shaking with want as he shifted over her and felt her knees rise up on either side of him. He couldn’t help but press his cock flat against her heat and soft blonde curls.  
  
“Um, Luna I don’t have a wand to do the charm, for, you know? Do you mind?”  
  
“A contraception charm, you mean? No, that causes blindness. I’ve been taking Mugwort from Fleur’s garden. So it’s fine.”  
  
“Blindn? - uh, Mugwort? You’ve been planning this?” Dean asked skeptically, not sure which issue to tackle first.   
  
“Yes, it’s much more effective.”  
  
“Yeah? Okay then,” he agreed. “If you’re sure.” His rational side was none too sure at all, but he trusted Luna’s certainty and his aching cock urged him to just shut up already.  
  
He raised his weight, adjusting himself to her entrance.   
  
“Do you think doing this with you on top is really the best way?” she spoke again, her voice even higher than it was before. “At this time of year, perhaps it would be better to-”  
  
“ _Luna_ , shhh.” Dean’s shush-puckered lips kissed her gently into silence. It occurred to him that maybe Luna was nervous too. “I know about _this_ ,” he told her. “And it’ll be fine, trust me.”  
  
Luna relaxed her head back onto her pillow and stroked his arms and shoulders. “I do trust you, Dean. Very much.”  
  
They nuzzled cheek to cheek, kissing softly, before he moved again.   
  
A soft, “ooh,” was the only sound she made as he slid his length slowly into her. He silently held his breath until the tension in her thighs began to ebb away and finally wrap her legs around his bottom.  
  
Weeks of talking together, holding hands, and kissing were now at a pinnacle as they just held each other, limbs twined while their bodies were so intimately connected. After so much fear and loneliness, everything they’d been seeking with each other now felt complete.   
  
“Hmm,” Luna moaned, and Dean smiled, feeling happy to have finally done something to leave Luna without coherent speech for once.  
  
He began to hold her tighter, pressing himself into her with slow, deep movements.   
  
“I think I rather enjoy this,” she whispered breathlessly, raising her knees higher around his ribs.  
  
“God, I know I do,” he moaned. Dean arched, pulling away slightly and then pressed in again. The action set off a heightened desire between them so that they kissed harder and clung tighter to each other.  
  
“Luna, I …” Dean struggled for breath, slowing their rocking bodies while he concentrated on speech. “I’m so close. Can you? Can I help you to … come?”  
  
“Come where, Dean?” Luna asked, opening her large eyes.   
  
Dean whimpered in amused frustration.  
  
“You know, uh, orgasm?”  
  
“Oh _that_. Of course, is it that time already?” she asked. Dean hung his head and laughed with resignation to her peculiarity while she slid her fingers between them.  
  
He felt her knuckles press against the base of his cock, and no sooner had she touched herself did she arch back and let out a quiet whimper, her creamy body tingeing pink beneath him as he watched.  
  
“Wow…” he whispered, unable to believe how simple that had been for her.  
  
“Yes,” she agreed with a smile. “That’s much better when you’re with me.”  
  
“I’m glad you’re with me, too,” he said sincerely, leaning down to kiss her.  
  
“It’s your turn now,” she said, touching the side of his face softly. “It’s only fair I think.”  
  
He chuckled. “Right. That won’t take long, either.”   
  
Luna just blinked at him sweetly.  
  
Dean shut his eyes, soaking in the sensations of their damp, naked bodies rocking together, the tender slide of her tongue on his, the light scratch of her nails over his lower back and arse, the way her small breasts pressed onto his chest. All of his senses bubbled over with feeling, and with one final thrust into Luna’s tight warmth, he came. The only the sound in the room was that of his breathless exhale.  
  
They drifted into a light and peaceful rest under Fleur’s soft linen sheets.   
  
When he opened his eyes from his not-quite-asleep haze, he found Luna already watching him.  
  
“You don’t have to worry, Dean. I won’t tell anyone,” Luna said, nestling into his chest, dragging a fingertip idly through the few dark curls on his chest.   
  
Dean shifted to look down at her face. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“The boys at school that I’ve kissed before always said that they wanted it to remain ‘just between us.’ They didn’t seem to want anyone to know they were kissing me. So I understand.”  
  
Dean let out a strangled sound of annoyance and shifted up a bit further to look at her with mixed sorrow and affection.   
  
“Well that’s not _me_ , Luna.” He pulled her closer and kissed her once with vigor. “I think you’re incredible and beautiful, and I’m _proud_ to be with you.”  
  
 _Be with you_ might have come off as more of a declaration than he’d intended, but now that it was out, he didn’t mind the sound of it.  
  
“Thank you, Dean,” she smiled. A normal, bright, feminine smile. “I knew you were different.”  
  
They settled down into the pillows and into each other’s arms once more, though Dean was still muttering under his breath with irritation on behalf of Luna’s dignity.   
  
“I don’t care who knows,” he said aloud. “Sod them. There’s a war on! We’ve been held hostage and been in hiding, and we’re both of age, so I – ” Dean sat up quickly again, looking at Luna with wide eyes. “Oh bloody hell, Luna, you are of age, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yes.” She nodded. “I had my birthday a week ago.”  
  
“Oh,” he sighed with relief. “Why didn’t you say anything? I’m sorry I missed it.” He cupped the side of her face with his hand.  
  
“It’s all right. Oh, look at that,” she said, looking passed him across the room. “I think my coin just lit up.”  
  
“What?” he asked, feeling quite shaken when she climbed out of bed.   
  
“Yes, this is what we’ve been waiting for,” she said, holding her old DA coin. “Time to get dressed.”  
  
“Already?” Dean climbed out of bed and joined her side. “Luna, let’s stay together, okay?”  
  
“I think that’s a good plan.”  
  
~^~


End file.
